


Eighteen Years in the Life

by Mireille



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-06
Updated: 2005-10-06
Packaged: 2019-03-11 15:54:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13527594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mireille/pseuds/Mireille
Summary: Eighteen years in a life Connor might have had.





	Eighteen Years in the Life

When Connor was six months old, a demon attacked the Hyperion when nearly everyone was out. The story he was told later (over, and over, and _over_ ) was that his uncle Wesley held it off, even after it had clawed him badly. He'd fought the demon with Connor tucked under his bleeding arm and an axe held in the other hand, until Connor's dad came home, killed the demon, and got Uncle Wesley to the hospital. Connor hadn't had a scratch on him, the story went. Wesley had an infection it took broad-spectrum antibiotics two weeks to beat, three months of physical therapy, and a nasty scar--and Connor's dad, sitting beside his bed holding his good hand all night. When Aunt Cordelia told him the story, she always added that it had been about _time_ the big idiots figured a few things out. 

***

When Connor was three, he was _very_ good when Aunt Fred's parents came to visit; he said "please'" and "thank you" and even remembered how to shake hands. As a reward, his dad and Uncle Wesley took him out for pizza at a place with a playground, even if his dad didn't eat the pizza and mostly just watched Connor play. Afterward, they went to see a movie. Connor fell asleep partway through, and when he woke up again, his dad and Uncle Wesley were holding hands, their arms stretched in front of his seat. He pretended he was still asleep so they wouldn't move, because he kind of liked it. It made him feel safe. 

***

When Connor was six, he had a bright-red backpack and a lunchbox with a truck on it, and his uncle Wesley took him to the park and told him that the kids at school might make fun of their family, and Connor should just ignore them. Connor didn't know why anybody would make fun of his family. He bet _their_ families weren't as cool as his. Then, after dinner, his dad took him out for ice cream, and told him that when he went to school, he probably shouldn't talk about things like demons or how his dad drank blood or that his uncle Lorne was green. Connor pretended to listen, but his ice cream was melting, and besides, if it was really important, he figured his dad would tell him again. Dads were like that. 

***

When Connor was nine, he got mad at his dad and ran away from home. He didn't run all that far, really, but it was two in the afternoon and it wasn't like his dad could _follow_ him. He stayed hidden for a couple of hours, eating the Oreos he'd packed and drinking juice boxes and reading comic books, until Uncle Wesley had found him and brought him home. 

His dad hugged him, and yelled at him, and hugged him some more, but Uncle Wesley just stood there. Then when his dad left the room, Uncle Wesley looked over at Connor and told not to _ever_ scare his father like that again. Connor thought about telling Uncle Wesley that he wasn't the boss of him, but he knew better, no matter how mad Connor was. 

That was the first time Connor had ever realized that his dad could _get_ scared, and it freaked him out. He stared at his sneakers, trying not to cry like a big baby. Then he looked up at Uncle Wesley and realized that it freaked _him_ out, too. 

He wished he hadn't noticed. It made it harder for Connor to be mad at him. 

***

When Connor was twelve, his dad and Uncle Wesley argued a lot--not real arguing, but the bickering that meant there was something that neither of them wanted to do. Finally, they both sat him down and told him about sex. Not where babies came from, because they'd done that years ago, complete with the part where that was every baby _except_ him--but all the rest of it. Connor didn't have the heart to tell them that the others had explained it to him when he was seven and had come downstairs one morning asking everyone what the noises coming out of Angel's bedroom were. They were trying so hard to be cool parents, and it wasn't their fault they just couldn't be.

***  
When Connor was fifteen, he had his first date. Both his dad and Wesley--he'd decided he was too old to call the others "uncle" and "aunt" any more--had insisted on meeting her. They were themselves. Connor thought he'd probably live the humiliation down, eventually. 

***

When Connor was eighteen, his dad and Wesley drove him to college for the first--

When Connor was eighteen, he'd transferred after Christmas to one of the high schools that held graduation at night, just so that his dad could--

When he was eighteen--

When Connor--

When Connor was eighteen, he put his father in a box and sank him to the bottom of the ocean, and Wesley still had the scar on his throat he'd gotten the night he'd kidnapped Connor, a couple of months or eighteen years ago. 

And after remembering that, Angel closed his eyes again. If he had to spend eternity down here, he'd rather it was in the dream.

**Author's Note:**

> [me on tumblr](https://mireille719.tumblr.com)


End file.
